


Fool's Overture

by pantheon_of_discord



Series: Even in the Quietest Moments [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: And guess what folks. . ., Angst, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Pre-S13, Regrets, The Empty, seriously: angst cleverly disguised as fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:16:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantheon_of_discord/pseuds/pantheon_of_discord
Summary: History recalls how great the fall can beWhile everybody's sleeping, the boats put out to sea





	Fool's Overture

**Author's Note:**

> I'm running out of tracks on this album. . .  
> [Fool's Overture](https://open.spotify.com/track/4NEWVkE87oVAuSeKwzrqrZ) by Supertramp  
> [My tumblr.](http://pantheonofdiscord.tumblr.com/)

He says it once in the shadow of a mausoleum, the scent of burning bones acrid in the night air.

 _I love you_ , and Dean’s eyes go wide. A purple bruise is blossoming on his jaw, but after a moment a grin splits his face.

Castiel has seen supernovas, but there is nothing quite so blinding as Dean’s smile.

Once in the booth of a crowded diner, when Sam steps away to the restroom and Dean is perusing the menu.

 _I love you_. Dean’s face flares scarlet. He looks furtively around the room, breaths coming quick and shallow. Sam returns, oblivious, and there’s silence for a while, but slowly Dean inches his hand along the bench until their fingers twist together.

He’s still looking away, the fierce blush is still tinting his cheeks, but he keeps holding tight to Castiel’s hand.

In the kitchen, while Dean is cooking at the stovetop and singing along to the music drifting from the ancient record player. _I love you_ , and Dean looks over, expression playful, and winks. Then he throws a dishtowel at Castiel’s head. 

He gasps it out, over and over – _I love you, I love you_ – as he lies on soft sheets, Dean moving against him and above him, panting in the darkness of his bedroom.

He presses the words into Dean’s skin. First in English, then in Enochian, in Latin, in Hebrew, and in languages that no longer have a name. He traces his love with his tongue until Dean shivers and gasps and spills – eyes dark but so _alive_.

He says it on the rocky shoreline, the yellow-orange seam of light glowing behind him.

 _I love you_.

Dean just looks at him a moment, before he steps up close. Castiel kisses him, just once, soft and sweet, before Lucifer’s blade pierces his heart.

//

He imagines it differently every time: all the many ways it could have been. 

If he’d been a little braver, a little bolder.

If he’d realized a little sooner just what that gnawing hunger in his heart meant.

Maybe if they were different people, with different lives. Maybe if they were _free_.

Castiel has been to Hell. He thinks maybe this place is worse.

He concentrates, tries to imagine the taste of Dean’s skin, but there is nothing quite so bitter as regret.


End file.
